The Numbers Game
by FormerCircusTeapot
Summary: A silly romp with lots of puzzle. There's no Holmes in the first chapter but I promise plenty to come. Each chapter has a puzzle if you solve it I'll put you in the next chapters AN. Good luck!
1. Chapter 1

The Numbers Game

Prologue – Buns and Bees

Cambridge had been buzzing with the news for a week now. A proof of the infamous Dietrich Hypothesis had been discovered by a Cambridge man who had been trawling the great mathematicians encrypted notes. Arden, a fellow of Trinity, had found a partial proof of Dietrich's hypothesis in an old diary. He'd polished it off, written it up and was about to publish. Before he could manage that, however, a great American industrialist, O'Connor, had offered a thousand guineas to have first sight of the proof. The mathematical community waited on tenterhooks for the publications.

Adam Wood looked at his fingers. His knuckles were glowing red but the tips were waxy, turning blue. They hurt! Adam thought about putting them in his mouth but settled for sticking them into the pockets of his greatcoat. His fingers curled around a coin, and at that moment, a cab tuned the corner of the street. Not stopping to thing why a cabbie thought there would be sufficient business to come out in Cambridge at five thirty on a winters morning, Wood hailed it. Penury here I come he thought, It's just too cold.

The tall, sleight student clambered into the cab. "King's Parade, please." He said, leaning out towards the heavily muffled cabbie. The horses began to move and Adam slumped back into the seat. His face reddened as his thoughts turned to the previous night.

Wood had been dining with a book when a neat, handsome man sat down next to him. He was a commanding charismatic seeming man with a manner that men obeyed and a smile that could make women weep. There was something about this man that made Wood want to impress him. He was a total stranger.

"I'm told your a mathematician."

"Not yet, sir, I'm an undergraduate."

"With hopes then? Are you as excited as the rest of them?"

"About the Dietrich hypothesis?"

"Yes" said the older man.

Remembering this, Wood blushed. He still couldn't fathom why he should have replied as he did. The man was bound to have thought him an idiot.

"I've seen the proof!" He hadn't of course. What a stupid lie to tell! The moment he had spoken he regretted the words.

"Oh really! I thought there was an embargo."

"No Don," Wood had said in a desperate hope of concealing his falsehood. "finds it easy to hide his success, Arden has been dropping hints all over Cambridge! It seems Dietrich relied heavily on Andre Weil, which is certainly a break with tradition." The conversation went on rather awkwardly with the stranger trying to tease out whether Wood's claim was genuine. The, increasingly embarrassed, younger man tried desperately to hide his deception in vague half truths. He was left in the certainty that his companion thought him at best an idiot.

As Wood came out of his reverie it became clear that he had been travelling much further than the few minutes journey he had expected. He leaned over to look out of the window. The scene outside was the outskirts of Cambridge leaving town.

"Excuse me!" The Cabbie showed no sign of hearing him. "I say!" Adam tried to open the door. It was locked. Nervously he sat back in the cab deciding the safest thing to do was to let himself be abducted quietly for the rest of the journey. It wasn't long before the sound of horses hooves stopped and Adam heard the driver jump of his perch. Adam balled his fists and prepared to fight.

The cabbie's muffled face appeared at the window. He opened the door and stood outside. Adam staid in the cab wondering how to play this. He was just about to step out of the vehicle when he was hit from behind with a heavy blunt instrument. 'Idiot!' He thought as he slipped into unconsciousness.

When Adam woke up, he was colder than he'd ever been. His head throbbed and his fingers were numb. Internally he cursed whoever had brought him here. He was lying in a barn. The young man stood up, brushed straw out of his hair and off his clothes. He stepped outside.

The barn faced onto a neatly swept courtyard, surrounded by a range of other out-buildings. In the middle of the courtyard there was what looked like a tea-tray. Adam walked over towards it and looked in bemusement at its contents. On the tray lay thirteen currant buns and seventeen dead bumble bees arranged in neat rows. There was also a note. "You'll find him in London" was all it said.

Sighing Adam picked up the note and a couple of buns and began walking back towards the distant town.


	2. A Note Slipped into The Strand

A/N – Sagredo credit goes to you for the best answer to the buns and the bees puzzle. The only thing I'd add which isn't crucial is that 13 bun is also a baker's dozen which gives another clue. The other parts are that 13*17 is 221 the bees represent B and the buns Baker's. Therefore the buns and bees give Sherlock Holmes' address 221b Baker street. Thanks also the mrspencil you were close please read and review.

Chapter 1 – A Note Slipped into The Strand

About an hour after leaving the farm, Adam arrived in the centre of Cambridge feeling a little worse for wear. He made quickly for his lodgings hoping to wash the grime of a night spent in the hay from his body. As he put his key in the lock a voice hailed him from across the street.

"Wood!"

It was the man from the previous night. The man to whom he had lied so pointlessly. "Hallo again" said Adam a little weakly.

"How is the young mathematician?"

"Fairly well"

The man appeared to look Adam over. A slightly quizzical expression graced his neat features. Adam blushed at the scrutiny and felt acutely aware that his clothes were rumpled and stained, a striking comparison to the supreme neatness of the man before him.

"I never caught your name...?" Adam said. It felt almost like a gesture of defiance. He couldn't put his finger on why.

"That was rather remiss of me. I can only apologise. Its a rather unusual name you know. My father died when I was small. My mother always said he was from eastern Europe or some such place but she never knew his people. She was a bit of an aristocrat and I always got the impression her family rather disapproved of the connection. But thats ancient history now. I'm all agog why are you wondering around Cambridge looking like you spent the night in a hay-barn?"

"It's funny you should say that..." Adam replied "I'm afraid its an odd story"

"Well why don't you get cleaned up and I'll take you out to lunch. I simply must know the tale. Would it suit you if I met you back here about one?"

Wood sat back after lunch feeling pleasingly full and a little hazy from the wine. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had the uncomfortable feeling that this lunch would cost about as much as he'd spend to feed himself for the rest of term. Food and Wine had eaten away at Adam's reserve and caution. Without any real idea why he had found himself spilling out the events of that morning. Now the sat back, both in silence, Adam digesting his ample meal; his companion a story.

"Well, if you want to go to London I'm going that way myself tomorrow. I'd be more than happy to oblige you with a lift."

"You've been so kind already. I'm not even sure where I would go."

"We can work it out on the way. Think nothing of kindness. I'm intrigued and I have plenty of money. I rather think you should get out of Cambridge. Someone seems to have it in for you and London is as good a place as any. By the way, do you have any idea who it might be?"

"No, I don't really think I'd be worth that much trouble to anyone."

"But you've seen Arden's proof. That is a rare thing. I've been asking around. No-one would tell me anything about it."

Adam's jaw almost dropped. He'd forgotten all about his stupid lie. He felt himself redden again and in a slightly strangled voice said, "No-one could seriously want to hurt a chap for having had a glance at it."

"Couldn't they? It occurs to me that there is a fair bit of money riding on this thing being kept under lock and key."

"I've only really told you."

"But other people must know. Whoever showed it to you for a start, and a great many people could have listened to our conversation yesterday."

Adam realised that he might have been more foolish that he had initially realised. The older man pulled a magazine from his inside pocket and layed it on the table.

"I've got an appointment now. If your game for London you might like to have a look at this."

Inside the magazine there was a note "My name is Tommy Ria-Ria, keep it quiet." was all it said. Adam pondered its meaning but his attention was caught by the article. It was by a Doctor John Watson and talked of the inhabitants of 221b Baker street. Adam remembered the buns and bees. 'So this is he' he thought.


End file.
